


Rationale

by elementalv



Category: Slings & Arrows
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Missing Scene, Yuletide 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalv/pseuds/elementalv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver can justify anything he decides to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rationale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quiesce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiesce/gifts).



Oliver is drunk when it happens.

That’s not an excuse, not by any stretch of the imagination, and he will be the first to say so, should it ever come out, but the fact remains that he is drunk. He’s been browsing through Ellen’s liquor shelf for the last several hours, listening as she gets more and more worked up about Geoffrey, and isn’t that a remarkable thing, that Oliver and Ellen can bond over just how beautiful and maddening Geoffrey is.

He doesn’t think he’s bitter — not especially — but he’s having a hard time swallowing Ellen’s angst, given that she, at least, is allowed to sleep with Geoffrey whenever she pleases, to touch him, to taste him, to experience the full glory of his cock (it wasn’t intentional, but Oliver managed to get an eyeful one night after rehearsal, and he’s been obsessing over it ever since). She gets to revel in Geoffrey’s physicality, to get dizzy over the scent of him, so it’s a bit galling to listen to her complain about Geoffrey’s little foibles.

Certainly, his obsession with Hamlet’s state of mind during each of the soliloquies is getting a bit stale for almost everyone after all these weeks. But Oliver is the last person who will complain about it, especially considering that he’s the one who’s encouraging Geoffrey’s morbid examination of the mind of a depressed character. Oliver knows full well that the more an actor sees a character as real and vital, as a person who exists in the spaces between lines and scenes and acts, the more they’ll find to bring out in a performance, and it’s already begun to pay off. Even in rehearsal, Geoffrey brings a breath of fresh air to his characterization of Hamlet and is finding emotional nuance Oliver never imagined existed. Geoffrey is delving into Hamlet with such subtle intensity that it’s likely theater will never see the character in quite the same way again, and the thought of that is more than enough to make Oliver hard.

It’s possible that this is why Oliver, who is well lubricated with Ellen’s surprisingly decent scotch, is looking at her with something more than his usual detachment, which is not to say he doesn’t have feelings for her. No director can create anything of value if he isn’t at least a little bit in love with his actors, and he does love Ellen in his own way. It’s just not the way he loves Geoffrey, and he wonders sometimes if she realizes that at least part of that distance is the result of jealousy and part is the result of realizing that he’s generally only a sentence or two away from using Ellen to suit his own needs. The problem, Oliver thinks, is that he sees in Ellen a chance to touch Geoffrey, if not directly, then by extension. He doesn’t imagine anything so foolish as the ability to scent him on her skin, but really, the idea of touching skin that Geoffrey has touched with passion is beginning to be more and more appealing as he stands there, hard from the thought of their last rehearsal. As for Ellen, she’s a beautiful woman, and —

Oliver stops himself — really stops himself — because he actually likes Ellen for herself, and he needs to remind himself of that. Ellen is catty and witty and incredible onstage, and for these reasons and more, Oliver has grown to respect her a great deal over the past several months. She means something to him that goes well beyond the fact that she is doing an excellent turn as Ophelia (granted, she lacks Geoffrey’s brilliance, but so does everyone else) and shares Geoffrey’s bed. Ellen is important not only professionally, but personally, and if Oliver is truly going to go through with his mad plan, he needs to remember that fact and keep it at the forefront of his mind. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that bedding her will allow him a measure of emotional control that he hasn’t quite been able to achieve with her in rehearsal, and it’s that last notion that decides the matter for him.

He likes Ellen — loves her on her better days, doesn’t quite hate her on her worse days — but more importantly, he respects her, and he thinks she’ll go along with him on this. After all, he’s seen her frustration mounting as much as his on days when he tries to extend her emotional range and isn’t quite able to help her beyond her self-imposed limitations, to help her acknowledge not only Ophelia’s vulnerabilities but her own. Geoffrey won’t like it, Oliver thinks, he has too many romantic notions about the nature of love and fidelity. But he’s an actor, and he understands how necessary it is for a director and actress to have a strong connection to help see her through her character development. This is something that everyone in the theater understands, and even applauds as the epitome of professionalism. Oliver polishes the justification a few times, tweaking a word here, adding a dramatic pause there, visualizing the expression he needs to have on his face as he explains first to Ellen and then, later, to Geoffrey, why this is so important for the production.

Despite the effort he puts into it though, he recognizes his rambling excuse for the piece of shit rationalization it is, yet he can’t quite bring himself to throw it away. There’s enough truth to it, and enough value in it, that it’s practically canon for a director to sleep with the onstage talent. There’s another reason, though, and Oliver is just enough of a bastard to acknowledge that having sex with Ellen will give him a greater measure of control over her behavior in rehearsal than he’s been able to manage so far this season. That alone is worth the risk of Geoffrey’s temper, because Oliver isn’t entirely convinced he can survive another of Ellen’s tantrums without going completely mad.

At the moment, her back is turned to him, and she’s swaying to a melancholy piece of jazz, upset over Geoffrey’s refusal to come out and play tonight, though she’s not so completely angry that she’s stopped flirting with Oliver entirely. Oliver is fairly certain that Ellen flirts on automatic pilot most of the time, turning the charm on for anyone who has a say in her career. He knows she’s not serious about it, but he also knows there’s a perishingly small chance of her actually declining his advances. If nothing else, the ability to brag that one of the notches in her bedpost represents a gay man will be too irresistible for her to ignore. She shifts from side to side, her hips moving to a somber beat, and Oliver approaches her quietly, resting his hand on her hip and moving in just a bit closer, so she can feel that yes, he’s quite serious about this. Ellen pauses for only a moment before shifting back firmly enough to assure Oliver that she’s serious as well. He dips his head to kiss her neck and is certain he’ll perform well enough to suit both of them, because even though his orientation is decidedly gay, Oliver likes breasts quite a lot, especially when they’re on the smaller side. Ellen’s are a perfect handful, and with that thought, Oliver gets serious about this seduction.

He removes Ellen’s blouse slowly and carefully, and as he teases one of her nipples, he amends his earlier supposition about Geoffrey’s reaction should he learn that Oliver has discovered for himself the exact extent and shape of Ellen’s sexuality. Geoffrey, Oliver belatedly realizes, may well end up hating both him and Ellen. He pauses for a moment, as he considers the risks, and then his hand continues its downward path beneath Ellen’s waistband. After only a moment, he locates her clit with his middle finger and begins to tease it just enough elicit a moan. It’s not that he doesn’t care that Geoffrey will be furious with him, should he learn about this interlude, but rather, it’s that Oliver knows perfectly well they’ll still have a good working relationship. There’s no guarantee that Ellen’s personal relationship with Geoffrey will survive, but Oliver doesn’t actually care about that. It’s none of his concern, really, that Ellen has decided to betray the man she loves, and he reminds himself of that repeatedly as they move upstairs to Ellen’s bedroom.

An hour later, she’s asleep, and Oliver is lying next to her, staring at the ceiling. Oliver would be proud of lasting an hour had he been with a man, but the plain fact is that he had to work to maintain interest and work to ejaculate, because Ellen, despite her slight build, really can’t be mistaken for a man. Still, for better or worse, the deed is done, and despite his hopes to the contrary, he felt very little of Geoffrey in Ellen’s expression of sexual gratification. He wonders if the problem lies with Ellen, who has a very plastic, non-stick shell around her personality. It’s doubtful that anyone can make a real impression on her, though he suspects that Geoffrey has come the closest to making a person-shaped dent in her ego.

Oliver sighs. The sex wasn’t exciting, and he’s still aching with the desire to get Geoffrey under him for one glorious night, yet even so, he thinks he might have accomplished at least one thing tonight. He’s fairly certain that at Monday’s rehearsal, Ellen will be more inclined to bend to Oliver’s will in terms of her Ophelia, and that alone makes this night worth everything. In the morning, he will, of course, have a conversation with her about the inadvisability of mentioning this night to Geoffrey. She’s a bright woman, and she’ll understand. If nothing else, self-interest will compel her to remain silent.

As for Geoffrey — well. Oliver has known for a long time that no matter how much alcohol is poured down his throat, Geoffrey is irrevocably straight. Oliver regrets never getting the chance to experience Geoffrey for himself, but at least he can say he’s had Ellen. If the AIDS groups are to be believed, that means that he’s also slept with Geoffrey, which, pathetic as it is, will have to be enough for Oliver.

He closes his eyes at last, and as he drifts off to sleep, his only real regret is that he’ll likely have a hangover in the morning.


End file.
